They hold a cold standoff of stares. Not saying more, even as the tension is thick with whatever Lochlan is thinking. It isn’t just that the king wasn’t there. It’s that his Guard didn’t come to Solace’s defense at all.
Then there’s that glimmer I spotted with Greer when we were deep in the heart of the tear. A flicker that looked a lot like the king’s magic, calling it here. It doesn’t make sense when King Malachi is trying to heal the realm. But this far north seems a strange place for the continent to suddenly crack open to the Well.
“How did Malachi hear of the attack so quickly?” Wilder asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
Cyan’s eyebrows pinch. A small movement that reminds me of Callum. His son has his bone structure, but there’s no kindness in Cyan’s hard gaze.
“His Majesty is made aware of everything that happens in his kingdom as soon as possible. He regrets he heard too late to order assistance, but he offers his sympathies nonetheless.”
Wilder smirks, but I can’t read what he’s thinking when I try to reach for him through the thread. It’s closed, and his attention is fixed on Lochlan.
“I should go find Greer and Callum.” I take a step away, putting a bit more distance between myself and this tension bubbling between the three males.
“They’re in the great hall eating breakfast,” Lochlan offers, waving a hand in the direction I need to go.
“Elorie,” Cyan calls when I start to walk away. “His Majesty is quite pleased to hear that this trip to Solace was fruitful, despite the losses incurred with the unexpected attack from the Well. Itseems you’re ready to make your promise to our kingdom after all.”
A knot tightens in my throat, and I nod once. Of course King Malachi already heard about my magic flaring. How could he not?
“That’s good to hear. It would be disappointing if this trip was simply a veiled attempt to avoid your promise.” His gaze slides to Wilder.
“I’m not avoiding anything.” My teeth clench.
The smallest hint of a smirk tics up in the corner of Cyan’s mouth. “We’re leaving before nightfall.”
“I thought we still had three days until the Rite.” My heart starts to race.
“We do. But His Majesty would like to see you in your newly bloomed glory to celebrate.”
A cold shiver crawls my spine at his choice of words. If King Malachi’s celebrations are anything like what he intends for me, I want no part of it.
Do I have a choice?
I’m the one handing myself to him. To his kingdom. I knew this was the price I was going to pay.
My gaze darts to Wilder, who is at the side talking to Lochlan, not paying attention to Cyan. I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like he’s made me any promises. I’m the girl who will doom his kingdom. His bedding me doesn’t change that.
By the full moon, I’ll be on the other side of this line he’s drawn. I’ll be his enemy.
His stare meets mine while he continues to listen to what Lochlan says. The golden swirls in his gaze have dimmed.
“Go eat,” Cyan says, urging me along. “The king wants you replenished and ready when you return.”
Bile rises in my throat, and my fingers clench until the soothing brush of Wilder’s magic shimmies my shoulders and caresses my neck.
I force a smile, not daring to meet Wilder’s stare because, as comforting as he is, a rush of guilt streams through me. He shouldn’t feel sympathy for the human girl who is going to be the end of his realm.
Lochlan watches me as I turn down the hallway that leads to where Greer and Callum are. Thankfully, they’re easy to find, sitting in the same room where the party was held two nights ago. This morning, the tables are filled with fresh fruits and bread.
Callum is perched against the wall, talking to a fellow member of the Guard while Greer sits at a nearby table. When he spots me, he pushes off the wall, and we both move to Greer.
“You’re up and about.” Relief floods me as I take in Greer’s warm cheeks. The brightness in her eyes makes them appear like silver-flecked clouds. “Thank the gods.”
Surprisingly, she doesn’t try to scoot away when I slide onto the bench beside her and pull her in for a hug. Her hands clasp my back, and we both sigh.
“I don’t know what you did, Elorie.” We peel apart, but her hands stay on my shoulders. “I shouldn’t be here right now. I felt it—saw the edges of Sarrow. And then I was back, and the wound was gone. Not even a scar.”
I glance up at Callum, whose expression is also pinched in confusion. “Honestly, I don’t know what I did either.”
